


six feet under the stars

by jeannedarcprice, kadaransmuggler



Series: life of the party [1]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Custom Ryder - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Female Shepard/Thane Krios - Freeform, M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Ryder, custom Shepard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:33:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeannedarcprice/pseuds/jeannedarcprice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadaransmuggler/pseuds/kadaransmuggler
Summary: The thing about being in love in the middle of a war is that you don't know how it ends. But sometimes, if you're lucky, everything works out, and you make it out alive with the people you love.Or, that fic where Ryder stays in the Milky Way.





	1. i know it's just a number but you're the eighth wonder

 

Celesta Shepard dies in an explosion of fire, jettisoned into the void of space, her lungs screaming for air, and afterwards Kaidan finds that his headaches get worse. It is, perhaps, the only part of grief he hadn’t expected. He’d lost friends before- you don’t serve in the Alliance for as long as he has without it. You get used to it, when it is something inevitable. Any soldier you meet might be dead on their next deployment. But this was the first time he’d lost someone who was so entrenched in something so big, someone who’d fought tooth and nail to save the galaxy only to have her warnings ignored. The Council has done everything they can to erase everything Celesta had said about the Reapers, the crew has split apart and he doesn’t know where anybody else is, and Shepard died in the same shipwreck he had managed to survive. In short, it was probably the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Officially, the Alliance had given him a promotion. They had welcomed him back like some big hero, like he deserved it when Celesta and Ashley were both dead, when they’d given Joker the boot. Hackett had looked at him with his mouth set into a hard line, told him that some people just aren’t equipped for that kind of loss, and told him to report back for duty in three months.

“Just some time to recover,” he’d said, a sympathetic smile on his face that looked more like a grimace. Kaidan had nodded politely, hadn’t felt like calling the bullshit when he saw it; when everything was still too raw and too real. They wanted to give themselves enough time to make sure he wasn’t going to lose it, to make sure he was going to fall in line like the good little soldier they needed.

                He finds himself on the Citadel for Shepard’s funeral, and he doesn’t see any reason to leave. The Council is kind enough to pay for a room in the Presidium’s residential district while they drag Celesta’s name through the mud, and he doesn’t see much of a reason to go anywhere else, so there he stays. More often than not, he finds himself in the wards, and he frequents the Dark Star Lounge more than he’d like when he can’t feel the tell-tale tingle in his sinuses that heralds a migraine. He never lets himself drink a lot, only a couple of drinks at a time, but he visits often enough that he has a spot by the bar and a regular order that the bartender starts to prepare before he’s even sat down. He tries to pretend that it doesn’t bother him, tries to tell himself that each visit will be the last, but sitting in the Lounge with music that reverberates in his heart and rattles in his bones sure beats sitting alone in a dark apartment feeling sorry for himself.

* * *

                Alec Ryder tells his children about the Andromeda Initiative while it is still in its infancy.  Wouldn’t feel right keeping it from them, he tells them, but the choice is theirs to make. Sierra makes it immediately, tells their father to give her the paperwork before she’s even officially done with the Alliance. Atlas hangs on a lot longer, stays with the Alliance for as long as he can, even if he knows chances of getting off Arcturus are slim. If he’s honest with himself, he just isn’t ready to leave everything behind. The Milky Way is all he’s even known, and he doesn’t share the desire for exploration that infect his father and sister. His father had always said he wanted to die breathing air that nobody had breathed before, and Sierra had reluctantly agreed with the sentiment, even though she’d made it a point in her life to be as opposite of her father as she could.

                Atlas just doesn’t know what’s worse- leaving everything he knew, or living out his life while the two of them slept. He doesn’t know how to cope with waking up, six hundred years into the future, everyone he’d ever loved lost to him in the space between galaxies. But he doesn’t know how to cope with every single door being slammed shut in his face, either. He’d had a promising career with the Alliance, until his father’s research cut it off, but he doesn’t know how to be anything other than a soldier.

                Shore leave comes at a perfect time. Sierra is finishing up her last dig out in the Terminus Systems, Alec is doing whatever it is he does for the Initiative, and Atlas has no place with either of them for the next few weeks. He books a flight from Arcturus to the Citadel, and his father is nice enough to send him enough credits for a room in the wards. He hasn’t been there since he’d accompanied his father to Commander Shepard’s funeral, when he’d worn a suit that was too small and too scratchy, when he couldn’t focus on the words of the speeches because Sierra was making eyes at the asari on stage. The Presidium is much the same as it always was, although repairs are still underway. The wards have changed almost completely, but there’s no shortage of bars, and Atlas finds himself in a place called the Dark Star Lounge, with music so loud he can feel it in his heartbeat but not loud enough to give him a headache.

                There’s a man sitting at the bar when he walks in, a glass full of whiskey in front of him. He’s got dark eyes Atlas can see himself falling into, dark hair that looks soft enough to run his fingers through, and an almost perplexing air of familiarity about him. He’s pretty, though, and Atlas finds himself looking at him as he places his order. He looks away for a half-second, and when his eyes flit back over he sees that the man is looking at him too, a faint half smile on his face. He swallows, cheeks tinged pink, but he takes his drink from the bartender and slips away to a booth in the corner. Maybe he’ll go talk to the man once he finishes his drink; flirt with him until the weight of the decision he still hadn’t made stops hanging so heavily over his head.

                He doesn’t get the chance. He’s halfway through his drink when he looks up and sees the man walking towards him. The bar is mostly empty- it’s too early in the day cycle for there to be a lot of patrons to be visiting, and Atlas knows that he is definitely blushing now. He hopes the dim lighting hides it as the man slides into the seat across from him, two drinks in his hand. He slides one towards Atlas, keeps the other for himself.

                “You looked lonely, sitting over here by yourself,” the man says, leaning closer so he can be heard over the beat of the music.

                “Well, I don’t know about that, but I definitely appreciate your company,” he answers, an easy grin slipping onto his face as he picks up his drink and drains the other half. He can’t remember how long it’s been since he’s flirted with someone, especially someone as pretty as the man sitting across from him. There’s the boy on Arcturus, but neither of them have done anything more than making eyes at each other across the mess hall at meal times.

                “You looked serious. Any particular reason you’re here day drinking?” the man asks. Atlas usually wouldn’t bother talking to a stranger about anything important, especially not something as important as this, but there’s something warm and soft in those brown eyes that makes him feel like it’s okay.

                “There’s a big decision I’ve gotta make. Not sure what to do either, and I thought coming here might give me some distance for a few hours. You didn’t look so cheerful yourself. Any particular reason _you’re_ here?” he answers, pulling the other drink towards him. It’s something he’s never tried before, something bright that smells like fruit, but he can feel a biotic charge, and thinks it’s probably from Thessia.

                “Just want to get out of my head for a few hours. Say, what’s your name?” the man says, his fingers nervously tapping a rhythm on the table.

                “Atlas, Atlas Ryder. And who do I have the pleasure of talking to?” he asks, his grinning widening just a little.

                “Kaidan, Kaidan Alenko,” he answers, a smile on his own face. Ryder was a name he recognized, and after a few seconds, he remembers why. Alec Ryder, the former N7. The boy sitting across from him must be one of Alec’s children.

Atlas is struck with a sudden bolt of recognition at the name, and realizes why the man is so familiar. Kaidan Alenko, who served with Commander Shepard. Kaidan Alenko, who’s bravery during the battle with the geth earned him a promotion in the Alliance. Kaidan Alenko, who’s sitting across from him at a bar on the Citadel over a drink he bought for him.

“You know, Kaidan, there are more fun ways to get out of your head that won’t kill your liver,” Atlas says, before he can stop himself, and he’s rewarded by a blush that creeps across the other man’s face.

He opens his mouth to say something, but his omni-tool beeps, flashing on his wrist. He frowns apologetically at Atlas, opening the interface with a flick of his wrist. He grimaces as he powers it back down, leaning across the table again.

                “Look, I just got a message from someone important asking me to go meet him. I’d say no, but these people have my career in their hands. Wouldn’t mind taking you up on your offer, though. I’m here a decent amount, if you want to see me again,” he says, pushing his drink across the table and waving goodbye. Atlas gives him a half-hearted wave as he goes, but Kaidan’s already turning back to his ‘tool, typing out a message as he walks towards the door. Atlas doubts he’ll ever see him again.

* * *

                Captain Anderson is waiting in his office. There’s a datapad in his hand that he frowns at as he scrolls through. There’s a picture sitting on his desk, of Anderson and Celesta and her son. It’s a few years old- Tiberius is much smaller, front tooth missing as he grins at the camera. Celesta’s hair was a shade of periwinkle blue- she’d gone to a bright red in the months before she’d died. Anderson is looking down at them both, less wrinkles and less scars and a less haunted look in his eyes. He glances up at the picture, his face softening. He jumps as the door slides open, and Kaidan hurrying inside, taking a seat in the chair in front of Anderson’s desk.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he says, fidgeting in his seat. He thinks of the boy he just left in the bar, and hopes he doesn't take his sudden departure as an insult. He isn't quite sure why he’d approached him, but the look on his face when Kaidan slid into the booth was worth it. 

                 “I did, yes. The Alliance is working on improving relationships with our colonies out in the Terminus Systems. They don't trust us, and for good reason. We haven't given them enough attention. Enough protection,” he says, tossing the datapad down onto his desk. He looks exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. Kaidan wonders if he's been sleeping at all.

“What’s that got to do with me?” Kaidan asks. He thinks about how far away the Terminus Systems are, thinks of how hard everyone is working to cover up what Celesta had said. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a tell-tale tingle behind his eyes heralding a migraine.

“The brass wants to station you on Horizon. They think you would be perfect for the role,” he tells him. He tries not to let the bitterness he feels leech into his voice- it hadn't been easy for him, either, when the people in charge systematically denied everything Celesta had died for. Hadn't been easy for her son, either, but Ty was coping better than Anderson lately.

“Well, you know me, sir. I’ll go wherever they think I’m needed,” he answers, voice measured and careful. They both know that the only reason someone of his standing would be sent to the Terminus Systems is to be kept quiet about the whole situation. If he’s stuck on some backwater colony, they won't have to worry about him contradicting the official statements, when the public still remembers him as a hero.

“I’ll let them know,” Anderson says, after a moment of silence. He picks the datapad up again with a sigh, typing out a quick message. Kaidan watches with a faint frown on his face, his arms crossed over his chest. The good mood he’d slipped into in Dark Star has disappeared entirely. He goes to leave when he catches sight of the picture on Anderson’s desk. He doesn't think he has any pictures of Celesta, even though he called her his best friend. He hadn't known much about her either, only learning about her son a short time before she’d passed away.

“What happened to her son?” he asks, before he can stop himself. Anderson’s attention is drawn back to the picture, to one of the only things he has left of Celesta.

“Tiberius is staying with me. I’m technically his legal guardian now. Celesta had listed me as her next of kin. It’s for the best- Ty doesn’t like strangers. I think that staying with me is helping his grief,” he answers. The two of them lapse into silence for a long moment, staring at the picture. Kaidan wonders what else he hadn't known about the Commander, what else she’d left behind.

He slips silently out of Anderson’s office, fleeing back to his apartment.

* * *

                Three days after meeting Kaidan at the bar, Atlas is drifting through the wards. He’s sure he looks like shit with his rumpled clothes and messy hair. He’s been down with a migraine the past few hours- gotten too hot during his morning workout, and as a result he’d been hit with a headache that almost made him throw up all over the shower. The headache hasn't entirely gone away, either, but its faded enough that he can pay more attention to the gnawing ache in his stomach. Well into the evening, and he hadn't eaten anything all day.

      He finds himself coming up short, brain short-circuiting. Kaidan steps out of a store up ahead, looking as rough as Atlas feels. There are dark circles under tired eyes, ruffled hair, and a wrinkled hoodie. Atlas hadn't expected to see him again, but he finds himself lighting up anyway. Something about Kaidan feels like home, makes Atlas want to keep coming back. He calls out to him before he can stop himself. Kaidan searches through the crowds for a few seconds before he sees Atlas, lifting his hand in greeting. Atlas grins, waving back, and jogs over to him.

        “Hey! It’s good to see you again, Atlas,” Kaidan says, his whole face softening as he smiles. Atlas gives him an easy grin, the other shoppers parting around them.

        “Back at you, Kaidan. I didn't think I’d see you again,” he says. Kaidan leads him over to a bench against the wall, both of them sitting down. Atlas scuffs his toe against the shiny tile floor, looking down at the space between their knees.

            “What are you doing here?” Kaidan asks, shifting a little closer, leaning towards him.

        “Looking for somewhere to eat. I’m starving,” he says, grinning again. Kaidan laughs.

        “I could stand to eat myself. Hey, do you like steak? There’s this place in the Presidium that serves the best steaks. What do you say we grab a bite together? My treat,” he says, and Atlas feels a little guilty letting Kaidan buy his food, but he jumps at the chance to get to know him better.

       “Lead the way,” he says, motioning towards the sky cars. Kaidan jumps to his feet, looking energized, and grabs Atlas’ wrist. The two of them dive back into the crowd, weaving a path through the other shoppers.

* * *

The restaurant Kaidan leads him to isn’t as fancy as Atlas had expected. It’s nearly empty at this time of the day, and it’s big enough that they have plenty of privacy. It isn’t as expensive as he’d expected either, although he lets Kaidan order for him so he doesn’t have to admit that he’ll eat damn near anything.

                “So, tell me about yourself, Atlas. What do you do for a living?” Kaidan asks, resting his cheek in one hand and drumming on the table with his other.

                “I’m with the Alliance, actually, stationed on Arcturus. I’m on shore leave for the next couple of weeks. My dad and my sister were busy, so I decided to take a vacation on my own instead of pestering them,” he says, taking a sip of his beer.

                “Oh, yeah? Do you like it, working on Arcturus?” he asks. This kind of small talk would be awkward with anyone else- Atlas is bad enough at it that he’d always hated it and usually thought of excuses to get out of it. But Kaidan seems genuinely interested in the answers- in _him_.

                “It’s not so bad. It wasn’t supposed to be a lifelong thing, but after what Dad did, well, it probably will be, unless I leave the Alliance,” he says. He tries not to sound bitter- he’d shrugged it off, for the most part, and only resented it for how much more difficult it made his decision.

                “I think I heard about that. AI research, right?” Kaidan asks, his fingers stilling on the table.

                “Yeah. I technically haven’t done anything wrong, but you know how it is. I suppose I don’t need to ask you what you do for a living, though,” Atlas says, with a grin. His grin only widens at the blush on the other man’s cheeks.

                “I had hoped you wouldn’t recognize me,” he admitted, taking a drink of his beer to hide his embarrassment.

                “I didn’t wanna make anything awkward between us. I’m interested in getting to know you, not whatever idealized version of you that the Alliance wants to push. I grew up with an N7 who fought in the First Contact War- I know there’s more to you than what you do for a living,” he says, his grin turning a little sheepish. Kaidan seems to relax, though, looking a little less embarrassed about being recognized.

                “Well, I gotta say I appreciate that. Not a lot of people look past that. Not a lot of civilians look past the whole Alliance thing, either, come to think of it. And that’s before they hear about all the shady shit surrounding my biotics,” he says, shifting the subject seamlessly.

                “I’ve gotten some shit about my biotics, too. I remember once in basic, some asswipe accused me of cheating the exams because I had them. My commander at the time told him that it wasn’t cheating to use what I had and to mind his own damn business. I got shit about it when I was a kid, too, and couldn’t control them that well. Mom and Dad kept people from shipping me off to a biotic boarding school somewhere, but that doesn’t mean it was easy to learn how to control them,” he says. Their conversation is interrupted by the waiter, bringing them more beer, telling them their food will be ready in a few minutes and that they’re very sorry for the wait.

                “Yeah, I had some of the same shit to deal with. I know it’s kind of a new thing for us, but that doesn’t mean we need to be ostracized. You’d think after centuries of racism, we’d learn from our mistakes and stop treating people like shit for being different. We all just want normal lives,” Kaidan says, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

                “Exactly. Humanity is just garbage. I mean, look at Terra Firma. Newsflash, asshole, we’ve had to share the galaxy this entire time,” he says, sitting up. His passionate rant is cut short by the waiter returning once more, this time with their plates. Atlas’ stomach growls violently, reminding him just how hungry he is. His mouth waters as the waiter sits their plates in front of them. The moan he lets out at the first bite makes Kaidan blush, and Atlas can’t keep the grin off his face.

                After the meal, they exchange contact information. Kaidan tells him that he’s there for Atlas anytime he’d like to talk, and he tells him he’d like to see him again before he heads back to Arcturus. It’s Atlas’ turn to blush at that, his eyes on Kaidan’s back as he walks away. He finds that he very much wants to see him again, too.

* * *

                AR: so kaidan

                AR: how do you feel about tattoos?

                KA: I mean, I guess it depends on the tattoo

                KA: Why?

                AR: i’m thinkin about getting one

                 AR: but idk if this is, like, the worst mistake i could ever make or not

                 KA: What are you thinking of getting?

                 AR: [Atlas Ryder has sent an image.]

                 KA: Wow

                KA: Not a lot of people could pull off a face tat

                KA: especially one that’s as...present as that one

                AR: i know

                AR: that’s why i’m worried

                AR: but i feel like i need to do something dramatic

                AR: guess it’s not shore leave if i don’t

                KA: i think you could make it work

                KA: you could pull off almost anything, i think

                KA: but i think it’d look cool in black ink

                AR: that’s what i was thinking!

                AR: wait are you encouraging me to get a tattoo on my face?

                AR: i thought you were supposed to be the responsible one

                KA: why do i have to be the responsible one?

                KA: is it because i’m older?

                KA: plenty of people in their early thirties do stupid things, atlas

                AR: no it’s because you seem less impulsive

                AR: one of us needs to have some restraint

                AR: once when i was fifteen i bought a rabbit because sierra thought it was cute

                AR: dad was pissed

                AR: mom thought it was hilarious

                AR: i had to give it back

                AR: but a face tat is a little harder to get rid of

                KA: do you even really want a tat?

                KA: if it’s commitment you’re worried about, i feel like that’s a bad idea

                AR: no not really

                AR: i’m just worried about it looking bad

                KA: you’ll still look handsome with the tattoo

                AR: you think i’m handsome?

                KA: there’s a reason i bought you a drink

                AR: wow all right then just come right out and say it

                KA: i do that

                KA: usually get away with it, too

                KA: benefit of being in your early 30s

                KA: guess it’ll be a few years before you get this same kind of freedom

                AR: okay, old man

                AR: my twenty two years can’t match your boundless wisdom

                AR: but you aren’t so bad yourself

                KA: thanks

                KA: i think

                KA: anyway, about the tattoo

                KA: get it if you want it

                KA: it’s your life

                KA: sometimes you just gotta go for things

                KA: but if you do get it i’d love to see it

                AR: you’ll be the first

                AR: well, okay, i suppose the tattoo artist would be the first

                AR: and then all the people who see me in between the shop and you

                AR: but you’ll be the first person who matters who sees it

                AR: also you’ll be responsible to keep my dad from killing me

                KA: i’m sure your dad won’t be mad, atlas

                KA: you’re twenty-two

                KA: oh god, you’re twenty-two

                KA: i’ve been making eyes at someone a decade younger than me

                AR: hey feel free to keep it up

                AR: i’m young and reckless and ready 2 fall in love w a handsome older man

                AR: and have my heartbroken after a whirlwind romance

                AR: and always think of the handsome older man for the rest of my life

                KA: wow i didn’t know we were living a cheesy romance novel

                AR: ok fine i did get a little carried away there

                AR: anyway

                AR: guess i’ll be getting a tattoo

                AR: unless i talk myself out of it

                AR: thanks kaidan

                KA: anytime, atlas

                KA: talk to you later

                AR: see ya, kaidan

                AR: thanks for encouraging my impulsive nature <3

* * *

                Two days later, and Kaidan goes to bed almost as soon as he wakes up with a migraine. It’s one of the more intense ones, one that he can taste down in his teeth, one that makes his whole head feel sore. He keeps an ice pack pressed against his forehead, the lights turned down low, and a mound of pillows stacked carefully over his face. Eventually he manages to drift off, the pain fading away as he sleeps. He wakes up to an insistent buzzing on his omni-tool, blearily sitting up and dislodging his carefully stacked pillows. The ice pack has fallen to the side, warm now, but the pain is nearly completely gone and the light omni-tool interface doesn’t bother him when he flicks it open.

                AR: kaidan guess what

                AR: i did it

                AR: i am a freshly tattooed man

                AR: all bc of you

                AR: maybe next time i should get your name

                KA: that one i’m gonna have to discourage

                KA: don’t think i’m worth permanent body modification

                AR: what happened to letting me be young and reckless

                AR: anyway, i wanna see you

                AR: you free?

                KA: yeah

                KA: but i don’t feel like going out

                KA: you can come here if you like

                KA: i can cook

                KA: or we can order something

                AR: are you feeling okay

                AR: do you need me to come cheer you up

                AR: or play doctor

                AR: i’m not a good one but i’ll do my best

                KA: hah, no, just woke up from a migraine. Still feeling a little out of it

                AR: oh shit man i hate it when that happens

                AR: so what kind of takeout do you want?

                AR: i’ll pick it up on my way

                AR: personally, garlic fucks me up right after a migraine

                KA: you get them too, huh?

                AR: yeah

                AR: my dumbass kept overheating my amp

                AR: anyway

                AR: food

                KA: garlic bothers me, too

                KA: how about chinese?

                KA: there’s a place not far from my apartment

                KA: sells cheap lo mein

                AR: that sounds perfect. I’ll pick us up some.

                AR: how much should i get?

                KA: i suggest an order for each of us

                KA: and maybe a third one to split later

                KA: can’t have too much lo mein

                AR: you’re a man after my own heart, alenko

                AR: see you in a few

                Kaidan closes the interface on his ‘tool and lays back in bed for a second. He doesn’t feel like getting up and making himself presentable, but he doesn’t want Atlas to see him like this either. He groans, laying there for a few more seconds before rolling out of the bed. He doesn’t bother making it, only grabs the ice pack and throws it in the freezer before pulling on a clean shirt. He doesn’t think Atlas is the type of man to run away after seeing him like this, but if he is, then he isn’t worth his time anyway. He spends the rest of his wait tidying up the living room, although it’s already clean. He hadn’t anticipated feeling so nervous, like he’s a teenager again getting ready to ask a pretty girl in his class on a date. He laughs a little to himself- tells himself that he’s too old for this, that he can feel too many years in his bones when he rolls out of the bed to be acting like a lovestruck teenager with a crush, but he can’t will his feelings away. 

* * *

                Atlas knocks on the door, his other hand full of food. The food was cheap and plentiful, and his stomach was growling. His face was still a little tender, too, but he thinks the tattoo does look cool. Kaidan answers the door quickly,= though, ushering Atlas inside. He does look like shit, but Atlas is all too familiar with the post-migraine look, so he just sits the food on the counter and gives him an easy grin. He can’t stop himself from glancing around the apartment- it’s a nice one. A lot nicer than he expected, actually.

                “Nice place you have here,” he says, with a low whistle. Kaidan stands next to him, a half-smile on his face.

                “The Council is letting me stay here temporarily, thanks to my service with Celesta. My leave ends in a couple of months- the Alliance wanted to give me plenty of time to mourn before giving me my next assignment. It’s boring as all hell, if I’m honest. I’ve run out of things to do,” he says, shuffling his feet. Atlas glances down, notices that he’s wearing a tattered set of bedroom slippers. He thinks they used to be bunnies, but only one of them has the eyes and both of them have frayed strands instead of ears. He finds it oddly endearing that he has these old, worn out slippers. He wonders how long he’s had him, how many places they’ve followed him.

                “I wish I could afford a place like this,” he says, looking back up. He’s just now noticing that Kaidan is a little taller, and finds himself suddenly wanting to kiss him. He looks away again, hoping that his face isn’t as red as it feels.

                “You’re welcome to stay, anytime you’d like,” Kaidan says, warmth in his voice.

                “I may have to take you up on that,” he says, a soft smile on his face. Kaidan smiles back, and Atlas tries not to think about how this is just one more thing he’ll be leaving if he goes to Andromeda.

* * *

Both of them eat way too much. Kaidan finds himself sneaking glances at Atlas when he isn’t looking, feeling more and more like that lovestruck teenager. He can’t help but notice how Atlas keeps looking away, digging at his noodles like there’s something bothering him. He remembers the first conversation the two of them had, back in the bar, when he said he was drinking to forget about a decision he had to make.

“Hey, Atlas, I was wondering. You mentioned a decision you didn't want to make. What is it?” he asks, twirling noodles around on his fork. He tries not to look at Atlas, tries to give him the space he needs to answer.

“It’s...kind of a long story, actually,” he says, with a sigh. He looks exhausted suddenly, and Kaidan feels a little bad, but he wants to know.

“I’ve got time, if you feel like telling it,” he says, reaching across the table. He hesitates, hand hovering for half a heartbeat before he takes Atlas’ hand, squeezing gently. Atlas puts his fork down, squeezing back. He doesn’t make any move to pull his hand back, either.

“Well, you already know about Dad’s research. The thing is, he’s with this thing called the Andromeda Initiative. In a few months, Dad and a few other hundred thousand people are going to go into cryogenic stasis and make their way towards the Andromeda galaxy. Six hundred years in cryostasis and a brand new galaxy. Dad and Sierra are going, and there’s a spot open for me, but I haven’t made my mind up yet,” he says, and then he’s silent. He doesn’t let go, either, just curl’s his fingers a little tighter. Kaidan’s silent for a couple of minutes, gives him time to say anything else if he wants to say it.

“Wow. Yeah that is...that is a tough decision, all right,” he agrees, giving his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

“Yeah. But I’ve got time before I have to make my decision. I’d rather focus on spending time with you,” he says, giving him a small smile.

“We can always watch a movie. I’m too full for popcorn, but I have wine, and the couch is comfortable. We could grab some blankets, hit the lights…” he says. The idea sounds more and more appealing the longer he thinks about it, and he can see the same feeling creeping over Atlas’ face.

“That’s a damn fine idea, Alenko,” he says, with a grin. Kaidan smiles back, letting go of his hand and stretching.

“I’ll grab the blankets. You find a movie you wanna watch, remote’s on the coffee table,” he says, before he darts down the hallway. Atlas picks a movie he’d watched all the time as a little kid, thinks he could use the familiarity, thinks he’d like nothing more than to curl up against Kaidan to ride out the nostalgia. Kaidan comes back a few minutes later, a comically large comforter draped over him. He spends a few minutes arranging it into a suitable nest on the couch, wanting it to be perfect. He barely pays any attention to the movie selection until he’s seated on the couch, patting the space next to him. Atlas doesn’t waste any time curling up against him. He stays pressed up against his side, and Kaidan finds that they’re touching everywhere. Shoulders, thighs, knees. He knows he’s not going to be able to focus on the movie, not with Atlas so close, even as he turns the lights off and presses play.

As the movie plays on, he can feel Atlas sagging against him. Halfway through, and Atlas is laying down, his head in Kaidan’s lap. He’s fighting a losing battle with his eyelids, and Kaidan’s looking at him more than he’s looking at the television. He reaches down, running his hand through Atlas’ hair. The boy lets out a groan, burrowing deeper into the comforter, his eyes drifting shut. Kaidan can’t keep the smile off his face as he sits there. He thinks that this has been the best chance encounter he’s ever had, thinks that the few weeks of peace he’ll get as a result is worth it, even if Atlas says goodbye to go somewhere six hundred years away. Kaidan thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’d be interested crossing the space between galaxies with him.

* * *

Atlas wakes with a start. For a second, he can’t remember where he is. He doesn’t recognize the pillow under his head or the blanket wrapped around him. It’s dark, too, and that doesn’t help. He fumbles to bring up the interface on his omni-tool, finds it’s the middle of the night cycle, but by now he remembers Kaidan and the Chinese food and the movie and falling asleep on his lap. His senses come into focus all at once, and he realizes that he can hear the shower running a few rooms over. He stretches back out, rolling onto his back. He’s comfortable, feels safe and warm in a way that he hasn’t felt in years. The shower cuts off, and he pushes himself up so he’s sitting, the arm of the couch pressing into his spine. Kaidan comes back into the living room a few minutes later, damp hair tousled from the towel. He’s not wearing a shirt, just an old pair of sweatpants. He doesn’t notice Atlas, not yet, and Atlas drinks in the sight. He looks a lot better than he had a few hours ago, like the shower has revitalized him. His body has a map of scars, and Atlas finds himself wondering where they came from.

Kaidan turns around, jumping when he sees Atlas sitting up before giving him a sheepish grin.

“I didn’t realize you were awake,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was admiring the view, is all,” Atlas says, drawing his knees up to his chest, a grin on his face. He’s rewarded when Kaidan’s cheeks turn pink. He props his chin on top of his knees, taking in the man in front of him. He thinks he’s starting to find it harder and harder to justify the trip to Andromeda, finds it hard to think about waking up in six hundred years, knowing Kaidan had already lived and died while he slept.             

* * *

                Atlas leaves Kaidan’s apartment the next morning, says he’ll be by again soon. Kaidan watches him go, thinks about how all he wants to do is kiss him, tries awfully hard not to think about actually kissing him. He tries to remind himself that he’s too old for him, that Atlas will likely be leaving in a few months anyway, that it’ll be easier for Atlas if Kaidan lets him leave as his favorite what-if. He finds himself thinking about the Andromeda Initiative, and wonders why he hasn’t heard anything about it yet. On a whim, he pulls up his omni-tool.

                KA: I have a question.

                DA: What is it, Alenko?

                KA: Have you heard of the Andromeda Initiative?

                DA: Rumors.

                DA: Nothing more substantial than that, I’m afraid.

                DA: Why?

                KA: I heard about it recently.

                KA: I was thinking about signing up.

                KA: The galaxy doesn’t feel the same.

                KA: Not without her.

                KA: Not with them erasing her.

                DA: I have to admit, I’d hate to see you go.

                DA: But the choice is yours.

                DA: I’ll understand if you want to go.

                DA: Hell, there are days I think it’d be easier for me.

                DA: Pack Tiberius up, set off for a new home.

                DA: Celesta would kill me for thinking about it.

                KA: Thank you, sir.

                KA: I haven’t come anywhere close to a decision.

                KA: Just thinking. Exploring my options.

                DA: Understandable.

                DA: I hope whatever you decide to do gives you peace.

                KA: Thank you, Anderson.

                KA: Andromeda or not, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.

                DA: Thank you, Alenko.

                DA: I appreciate you, too.

                DA: Have a good day, kiddo.

* * *

                AR: hey, sis?

                SR: i’m here baby bro

                AR: you are three minutes older than me

                AR: that’s unnecessary

                AR: anyway

                AR: i’ve been thinking

                AR: about andromeda

                SR: have you made a decision?

                AR: not yet.

                AR: not really.

                AR: but i don’t know if i want to leave.

                AR: there’s this guy i met

                AR: super nice

                AR: a little old

                AR: but he makes me think i have a future here

                AR: and i’m scared to give it up

                SR: andromeda won’t be the best choice for everyone, bro

                SR: if you think you’ll be happier here

                SR: then stay

                SR: it’ll suck, and i’ll miss you

                SR: you’re my brother

                SR: there’s literally nobody else that knows me like you do

                SR: but your life is your own

                SR: you gotta live it your way

                AR: thanks, sis

                AR: i just

                AR: i’m going to end up missing something either way

                AR: and i can’t figure out which one will hurt less

                AR: which one would be better for me

                SR: i get that

                SR: but the truth is?

                SR: no matter what you do, it’s gonna be a risk.

                SR: your career is on ice, if you stay here

                SR: but andromeda is a complete unknown

                SR: and there won’t be any coming back from it

                SR: sometimes you have to decide between the risks you know

                SR: and the risks you don’t

                SR: and you’re the only one who can make that choice

                AR: i know

                AR: i just

                AR: i wish it was as easy for me as it is for you

                AR: i don’t like the idea of living out my life while you sleep

                AR: but i don’t like the idea of sleeping while life goes on here

                SR: that’s understandable

                SR: but whatever choice you make

                SR: i love you

                SR: i’m always gonna love you

                SR: you’re always gonna be my annoying little brother

                SR: even if you stay here and i go there

                SR: we’re still twins

                SR: still Ryders

                SR: and no amount of time or distance can change that

                AR: you know what?

                AR: i think that’s what i needed to hear

                AR: thank you, sierra

                SR: welcome, atlas

                SR: oh, shit

                SR: gotta go

                SR: someone’s calling my name

                SR: loveyoubye

                AR: love you too

* * *

                AR: can we talk?

                KA: of course

                KA: what’s up?

                AR: i don’t want to go to andromeda

                AR: but my career here has been put on ice because of my dad

                AR: i don’t want to stay on arcturus for the rest of my life

                AR: i don’t want to wake up forty years down the road

                AR: stuck in a dead end

                AR: because of the mistakes my father made decades ago

                AR: but i don’t know what else to do

                AR: i was never going to do anything but enlist

                AR: as much as i pretend otherwise

                AR: i’ve got a limited set of skills

                KA: i may be able to help

                KA: come over

                AR: ...okay

                AR: i’m on my way

* * *

                Atlas is at Kaidan’s apartment in record time. He’s so nervous that he can’t think straight, can’t stop himself from fidgeting even as Kaidan lets him inside.

                “What did you have to say that had to be said in person?” he asks, blurting it out. He cringes, hadn’t meant to do that, had meant to have a little more tact about the whole thing. Kaidan just gives him a soft smile, leads him to the couch.

                “My next assignment is on Horizon, out in the Terminus Systems. It’s supposedly part of this outreach program to repair relationships with the colonists, but that’s just a smokescreen. They want to keep me out of the public eye. But I looked into the Initiative, looked over the requirements. I’m eligible, even with my migraines,” he says, the words coming out in a rush.

                “I felt kinda silly before, but part of the reason I don’t want to go is you. You’re the best thing to happen to me in months, Kaidan, and maybe this is too much too soon but I don’t want to leave you. And I know it’s dumb to make a decision like that for a boy, but I was on the fence about the whole thing anyway. This friendship we’ve got is new, and it’s just another tie I don’t want to sever, but I’m so afraid of being alone. Sierra and Dad are all I’ve ever had, and in a few months they ship off for a brand new galaxy, with or without me, and I don’t know if I’ll be left alone in the dust,” he says, feels like he might start crying. Everything seems to hit him at once, all the feelings he’d tried to lock away, tried to ignore. He can’t ignore them much longer, not with the deadline getting closer and closer. Kaidan just reaches out and takes his hand, squeezing.

                “Well, I was over here thinking about going to Andromeda for you, so you’re not the only one moving too fast. But if you decide to stay, you won’t be alone. I’ll be here for you in whatever capacity I can. But I want to know something before either of us makes any big decision. Are we friends? I feel like we’ve been skirting something else ever since we met,” he says, a faint smile on his face, but he can’t quite hide the anxiety there either. Atlas finds that it’s a little easier to breathe, now, with his options lined up in front of him.

                “I’ve been wondering that myself. I’m not...I’m not the type of guy who can do hook-ups or anything like that. I’ve been...I don’t know, kind of afraid, I think. I like you. I like you enough that I may end up staying in the Milky Way for you. But I don’t want to push anything,” he says, glancing away, biting his bottom lip. He doesn’t want to tell him how much he wants this, how all he wants is to kiss him until he can’t catch his breath.

                “I’m not going to lie, I like you too. But I’m too old for you, Atlas. I’m at least a decade older. Ten years is a lot of time,” he says, brown eyes looking troubled, his brow creased.

                “That isn’t a problem. Not for me. But if we do anything, well, I guess this should tell you what to expect. I fall in love too fast and too soon and too much. It’s probably not healthy, if I think about it, but it’s me. And I’m probably going to be even more attached to you than I’ve ever been before because you’re going to be the only person I’ve got in the whole galaxy and I know firsthand what kind of problems that can bring, but the only thing I can think about is how I want to try to work through them anyway, with you, because you make me feel better about existing,” he says, scooting closer. Kaidan’s silent for a second, and Atlas is already building himself up for rejection, knows that it’ll hurt more coming from him with that soft voice and those warm eyes, knows it won’t make it any easier to say goodbye, either.

                “Does that mean you’re staying?” he asks, instead, and Atlas lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

                “I guess it does,” he answers, and Kaidan’s smile is dazzling. A heartbeat passes between them, and Atlas isn’t sure who makes the first move, but they’re kissing, Kaidan’s lips warm and soft against his, the stubble on his jaw scraping against his skin. At some point, Atlas lets go of his hand, his fingers fisting in the Kaidan’s t-shirt, pulling him closer. He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat when he feels Kaidan’s fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him as close as he can. When they break apart he is breathless, his head spinning in the best way, and when he looks into those brown eyes he sees a future that he’d fight tooth and nail for. He thinks about Sierra, and he thinks about risks, and he knows that Kaidan is a risk he would take a thousand times over. He knows the galaxy is hovering on the brink of something big, knows that this thing between them might not last, knows that he might get his heart broken. He thinks he’d do this anyway, even if he knew that his heart would lie shattered in a billion broken pieces at the end of it all, knows that this will be worth it.

* * *

                KA: I’ve got a question, Anderson.

                KA: One that probably is best discussed where the conversation is secure.

                DA: I was just about to head out to lunch.

                DA: Meet me at that burger stand Celesta always liked.

                KA: See you in a few, sir.

* * *

                Kaidan is almost surprised to see Anderson in civilian clothes, almost doesn’t recognize him. He slides into the seat next to him anyway, and he orders a soda and fries.

                “What did you need to talk about, Alenko?” Anderson asks, clapping him on the back in greeting.

                “There’s a boy I know. Atlas Ryder. His father got caught doing illegal AI research, and Atlas’ career with the Alliance is suffering as a result. He doesn’t wanna be stuck on Arcturus his whole life, and I can’t say I blame him. Is there anything we could do to clear his name?” he asks, a little helplessly. He knows if the higher ups found out about the two of them they’d both be at risk, knows it’d go on their records as fraternization, even if Kaidan doesn’t have any real power over Atlas.

                “I heard about that. It’s nasty business. I could probably put in some recommendations for the kid, but the brass probably won’t do anything. Might give him a few promotions to keep him happy, but they’ll probably keep him on Arcturus until he leaves,” Anderson says. Kaidan grimaces.

                “And what about Horizon? You’d think the shit I did with Shepard would buy me any position I wanted. I was a big hero a month ago,” he says, bitterness seeping into his tone. He’s pissed at the unfairness of it all, knows there’s nothing he can do about any of it.

                “It’s a smokescreen, Kaidan, and we both know it. They want to keep you away from anyone who could ask questions about Celesta, about the Reapers. They don’t want to admit there’s a threat, don’t want to admit they’re sitting on their asses instead of doing something useful. But I’ve heard something recently,” he says, leaning forward. Kaidan finds himself leaning closer too, knows whatever Anderson’s about to say is something neither of them should know.

                “What is it, sir?” he asks, his fingers curling around the edge of the table.

                “I heard that the Shadow Broker is looking for Celesta’s body. I heard that he’s close to finding it, too,” he says, and Kaidan takes a deep breath, the air whistling through his teeth.

                “What does that mean?” he asks, voice hushed. He’s sure it’s important, but there’s too many missing pieces in this puzzle, and no way he’ll be able to solve it.

                “I’m not sure, but it doesn’t feel like anything good,” Anderson says, sitting back up abruptly as the food is delivered. He frowns down at his fries, too many things happening and none of them getting any answers.

* * *

                KA: so i talked to that friend i told you about

                KA: he said there’s probably nothing he can do

                KA: but he did let slip the salary i’ll be getting for working on horizon

                KA: it’s a lot

                KA: enough to support two people, easy

                AR: what are you saying?

                KA: come to horizon with me

                KA: i can keep us up until you find a job

                KA: if you even want one

                AR: wow, and i thought i was moving too fast

                AR: and here you are, asking me to move in with you

                AR: but yes

                AR: i was so scared you weren’t gonna ask

                KA: i wouldn’t expect you to stay here for me

                KA: and not be on the same damn planet

                KA: i have a feeling neither of us will want long distance

                AR: it’s still weird that you’re my boyfriend

                AR: you’re so

                AR: everything i’ve ever wanted

                KA: you’re pretty swell, too

                KA: it doesn’t feel real to me either

                KA: i’m still too old for you tho

                AR: you ever gonna let that go, old man?

                KA: doubtful

                KA: gotta have something to give you shit about

                AR: fine, fine

                AR: my name is atlas ryder and i like

                AR: long walks on the beach

                AR: pretty sunsets

                AR: real books

                AR: and older men

                AR: with an eye on one older man in particular

                AR: who’s everything i ever wanted out of my life

                AR: and who i am also unhealthily attached to

                AR: no big deal tho right

                KA: you absolute dork

                AR: but i’m your dork <3

                KA: you absolutely are

* * *

                ARSR: Atlas.

                ARSR: I’m not trying to pressure you, but the arks launch in a few months.

                ARSR: Your choice is your own, but you’re running out of time to make it.

                AR: don’t worry dad

                AR: i think i’ve made it already

                AR: it wasn’t an easy one

                AR: i still might cry about it

                AR: but i think i made it

                ARSR: And what is your decision, son?

                AR: i’m staying

                AR: there’s a boy

                AR: who’s going to give me a life

                AR: and sometimes you gotta pick between the risks you know

                AR: and the ones you don’t

                ARSR: I understand.

                ARSR: I’m going to miss you.

                ARSR: I know I haven’t been the best father.

                ARSR: But you’re my son.

                ARSR: And I do love you, as strange as the idea might be.

                AR: i love you too, dad.

                AR: believe me, i do.

                AR: i don’t want you or sierra to leave me

                AR: but my heart is telling me to stay here

                ARSR: I’m proud of you for making that decision.

                ARSR: Even if I hate to leave you behind.

                ARSR: Which I’ll only do on one condition, young man.

                AR: what’s that, old man?

                ARSR: I get to see you before I go into stasis.

                ARSR: I want to say goodbye.

                AR: sure thing, pops.

                AR: and i want to say this now

                AR: when nobody can see me crying

                AR: but i know i’m going to die before you

                AR: so i want you to know

                AR: whatever afterlife there is

                AR: i’ll wait for you there

                AR: and when you get there

                AR: you better tell me every single thing you saw in Andromeda

                AR: make me feel like i was there anyway 

                ARSR: You can count on it, son.

                ARSR: And I’ll do you one better than that.

                ARSR: I’ll find something new in Andromeda.

                ARSR: Something that matches your idealism.

                ARSR: Something that matches your soul.

                ARSR: And I’ll name it after you.

                ARSR: And six hundred years away, in a brand new galaxy

                ARSR: People will remember you.

                AR: i love you dad

                AR: i know things haven’t been the best between us

                AR: but i love you

                AR: i never once didn’t

                AR: i’ll make sure people remember you, too

                ARSR: You’re a good son, Atlas.

                ARSR: I’ve always been proud to call you mine.

                ARSR: Leaving you behind is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

                ARSR: I’ll see you soon for a real goodbye.

                AR: okay

                AR: and by the way?

                AR: i’m proud to call you my dad, too

* * *

                The next day, Atlas starts to fill out the paperwork that will let him leave the Alliance.

* * *

                Kaidan asks for an extension on his leave. He’s not due back for another month, but there’s only a couple after that before the arks are supposed to leave. He knows Atlas will need to stay on the Citadel, will need to say goodbye in the final few days. He knows it’ll be hard, knows he’ll be watching Atlas fall apart before he can start to put him back together again, and he wants to make it as easy as he can. He spins a sob story about Shepard and grief. He supposes it isn’t a complete lie- his boyfriend will be grieving the only two people he has left- but the Alliance doesn’t need to know the truth of it all.

                Three days later, he gets a message telling him that his request has been granted, and that they are sorry for his loss. His position on the colony will be held open, ready for him whenever he’s ready. He thinks Atlas cries when he tells him. 

* * *

                In the weeks counting down to the departure of the arks, Atlas has nightmares. They are all about his father and his sister, sleeping, while he lives out his life. In one, he is on the Ark Hyperion as it drifts through deep space. He is the only one awake, and the ship feels like a tomb. He can’t go to sleep and he can’t wake anybody else up, and he is left to stumble through the dark corridors, alone, until he dies, nearly a century later. It is this one he wakes from in Kaidan’s apartment, a deep-seated terror curling around his heart like a vice. He’d fallen asleep on the couch again, but all he can see in the darkness is an eternity of solitude stretching before him. He stumbles down the hallway to Kaidan’s room, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and trailing behind him. He stands in the doorway, the seconds ticking by, and then he crawls into the bed. It’s easier to breathe here, with tangible proof that he isn’t alone, but the dream he had haunts him.

                Kaidan sits up, half asleep. He holds the blanket up and Atlas slips underneath, Kaidan curling around him even as he settles down, shifting to find somewhere comfortable. He ends up with the side of his head pressed against Kaidan’s chest, the steady beating of his heart loosening the fear that held him. Kaidan presses a clumsy, sleepy kiss to his forehead, murmuring soothing sounds against his ear.

                Atlas thinks he made the right choice, after all- doesn’t know how many beds he’d be able to crawl into in Andromeda. He drifts off to sleep again, a soft smile on his face. His dreams, when he has them, are peaceful.

* * *

The next morning Kaidan wakes to artificial sunlight streaming through the window, and Atlas tangled up with him in the sheets. He smiles down at him, leans over to press a kiss against the top of his head. Atlas groans, stirring, blinking his eyes open to look up at Kaidan, a faint smile on his face as he realizes where he is. He thinks if he had to pick a moment to live in for the rest of his life, he’d pick this one. Atlas stretches, leaning up to press a sleepy kiss against his lips, curling up against him. Kaidan thinks that they should get up, start working on breakfast, but instead he curls around him, pulling him closer, nestling back into the bed. This moment might not last forever, but he can make it last a little longer all the same.

* * *

                The days turn into weeks that turn into months. Kaidan can tell that Atlas is watching time go by apprehensively, like he’s trying to cup sand in his hands but can’t stop the grains from falling no matter how hard he tries. He gets quiet in the weeks leading up his father’s visit, doesn’t talk as much, but he clings to Kaidan every chance he gets.

                The day they’re scheduled to arrive, Atlas is a wreck. Neither of them get any sleep the night before, and Kaidan can tell that he’s hovering on the edge of panic. They had agreed to meet at the embassy- Alec had some last business to take care of regarding the Initiative, and he was sure they could find the privacy they needed. Atlas insists on arriving two hours early, spending the time pacing while Kaidan sits in one of the most uncomfortable plastic chairs he’s ever had the misfortune of encountering. Minutes stretch into hours, and finally an older man with authority in his step and a girl with hair dyed sunset orange step into the room. Alec Ryder looks every inch the N7 he is- stiff and uncomfortable, hands clasped behind his back- but he melts when he sees Atlas. The boy doesn’t waste any time in throwing himself at his father, his arms going around his neck and clinging like he might never let go. For the first time since his children were little, Alec Ryder bundles his son into his arms, holding him like he can keep the rest of the world at bay.

                It’s a few minutes before either of them notice Kaidan, and they probably wouldn’t have noticed him then if he hadn’t stood up. Alec’s head swivels towards him sharply, eyes narrowing, and Kaidan’s been faced with this stare enough times to know when he’s being assessed. He keeps his head held high, his hands tucked into his hoodie, his stance loose.

                “You the reason my boy is staying behind?” Alec asks, face unreadable, and Atlas turns to look over his shoulders, blue eyes wide, a faint half-smile on his face, even as he blinks back tears.

                “His choice is his own, sir, but I will say that I’m honored he considered me when he was making it,” he answers, voice even, and Atlas’ smile widens just a little. He lets go of his father, then, reaches for his sister, and Alec takes a step towards Kaidan, his hand coming down to rest on his shoulder.

                “I gotta say, Alenko, I wasn’t expecting much when he mentioned a boy. Thought it’d be some grunt he was throwing everything away for. But I feel better knowing you’re going to be the one watching his back now that I can’t,” he says, and Kaidan can see his eyes shining. The air smells like loss and leaving, and he doesn’t envy any of them.

                “I’ll do what I can to keep him happy, sir,” he says, soft smile on his face, eyes wandering over to the boy in question. He’s clinging to his sister, now, wrapping her in the biggest hug he can manage, knows he’s never going to get to do this again.

                “I know he’s in good hands, now,” Alec replies, clapping him on the shoulder once before turning away. Kaidan watches them for a few more seconds, enough to see him pull both of his children into his arms, before he murmurs an excuse under his breath and steps outside.

* * *

                Kaidan waits for hours. Doesn’t ever think about leaving, though, doesn’t want to think about Atlas walking out and him not being there. So he sits on another uncomfortable chair, fingers drumming against his thigh, bored out of his mind. He doesn’t mind, not really, but people watching loses the appeal after a half hour and he’s left without anything to occupy his thoughts.

                Finally, Atlas steps out into the hallway, arms wrapped around his stomach, eyes red, tear tracks staining his face. Kaidan’s on his feet immediately, arms open, and Atlas buries his face in his chest, body shuddering. He holds on, tight as he can, like he can the goodbye hurt just a little less. They stand like that for a few minutes, everyone that’s passing by giving them a wide berth and curious looks.

                “I couldn’t do it without you,” Atlas murmurs, eventually, voice muffled in Kaidan’s shirt. He hums in response, hands rubbing soothing circles on his back.

                “I meant it, you know. I am honored that someone like you would make a decision like that for me,” he says, holding him just a little tighter.

                “It’s not gonna be easy. I’m actually a really awful boyfriend,” he says, pulling back, wiping his face with his sleeves, but there’s a wavering grin on his face anyway. For the first time since meeting him, Atlas looks twenty-two and lost, trying to put on a brave face for the rest of the world. Kaidan pulls him into another hug, holding him close.

“Well, thank God I’m already in it for the long haul,” he says, letting out a breath of a laugh. Atlas makes a choked sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob, clinging desperately.

“Let’s go home,” he says, after a few seconds pass, suddenly conscious of the other people drifting through the embassy. Kaidan steps back, linking his fingers through Atlas’, keeping him close even as they fall into step together.

“I’m not the best with this kind of stuff, but anything I can do, I will,” he tells him, and Atlas sniffles beside him.

“I just wanna take it easy for this last week,” he says, voice quiet. Later, this will be one of the memories that stands out in Kaidan’s mind. He’ll remember the way Atlas’ hand felt in his, remember the way he walked just a step ahead of the boy, like he was clearing a path, remember the way he looked over at his shoulder, remember the earnest look and the shining blue eyes staring back at him. For now, though, he just smiles.

                “I think we can do that,” he says, and he gives his hand a gentle squeeze.

* * *

                Atlas leans back against the wall of the shuttle, head thunking against the metal. He’s impatient, even though they just broke into the atmosphere of the planet. Kaidan gives him an amused smile from the seat opposite him, legs stretched out. Seconds later, they’re given the all-clear, allowed to get up and move. Atlas is at the window moments later, face pressed against the glass, watching the colony drift past as the pilot steers them towards the landing zone.

                “What do you think?” Kaidan asks, almost indulgently, as he comes to stand next to him.

                “It’s….so small. I think it’s smaller than anywhere else I’ve ever been,” he says, craning his head back to look up at him.

                “All right, city boy,” he says, laughing, hand coming to rest on the small of his back.

                “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Alenko. Let’s see how you like it when the extranet goes out and we have to live like barbarians,” he says, but he’s laughing too.

                “Speaking of the extranet, did you ever find a job? I know you were looking,” he asks, glancing back out at the colony. The little house the Alliance has given them isn’t far from the landing zone, but it’s still on the outskirts of the colony. They’re both grateful for the privacy, but they know it won’t do anything to make the colonists like them if they live as outsiders.

                “Not yet. There’s a few security jobs open that I was looking at,” Atlas answers, looking back out the window and leaning into Kaidan.

                “You don’t have to get a job, you know. You could stay home, play the housewife, start a garden,” he says, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

                “Hey, don’t tempt me. I’d make a great housewife,” he says, as the shuttle pulls up to the docks. He leans up, pulling him down for a quick kiss before stepping back, hefting up his suitcase. He isn’t sure what kind of life to expect, but he knows that he’d gladly walk into it with Kaidan at his side.

* * *

                They settle into life on Horizon quickly. Atlas manages to get a part time position as a guard at school, working three days a week. Kaidan spends his time working on the colony’s defenses, scurrying around and trying to improve the relationship between the Alliance and the colonists while he works, but none of them buy it. He can’t say he blames them, either, not with the rumors about lost colonies and not with the slaver attacks the Alliance couldn’t prevent in the past. He’s not so happy when they take their bitterness out on him, but he can’t say he blames them for that, either, since he’s the face of the Alliance in the colony. Atlas fares a little better- the kids love him, the teachers like him, and a lot of parents tolerate him. He thinks it’s because he isn’t officially Alliance, even if his boyfriend is, but he’ll take what he can get.

                A few systems over, in a lab under attack, face still gleaming with scars, Celesta Shepard opens her eyes.

* * *

                Neither of them are ready for the attack when it comes. The seeker swarms freeze them in place, Kaidan in the center of the colony and Atlas on his way to find him, more than a little desperate. Celesta arrives just in time, glowing blue, rifle hot in her hands, the swarms ignoring her entirely. Her hair is white-blond, now, but it’d been red when she died.

She’s only in Atlas’ line of sight for a handful of minutes, until she clears the battlefield and moves on to the next. Minutes later, or maybe hours, since time doesn’t seem to have much of a meaning when you’re in stasis, Atlas finds that he can move again. He finds Kaidan just as he finds Celesta, his heart in his throat as he skids to a stop in front of him. Kaidan looks back over his shoulder, face softening when he sees him, before he turns back to Shepard.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” she says, earnestly, rifle slack in her hands, dark circles under her eyes, “I didn’t want it to end this way. I did everything I could.” It was true enough, but the Collectors still got away, half the colony on board, and she’s tired of being one step behind. She’s tired, anyway, hasn’t been able to sleep since she woke up to a hail of bullets.

“You did more than most, Shepard, don’t beat yourself up about it,” Garrus says, voice soft behind her. She glances over her shoulder with a tired smile, grateful for the support.

                “Wait a second, Shepard? I remember you. You were some big Alliance hero,” the mechanic says, resentment written all over his face. She wonders if people will ever be grateful for the things that she does to save them.

                “Commander Shepard. Captain of the Normandy, the first human Spectre, savior of the Citadel. You’re in the presence of a legend, Delan, a goddamn ghost,” a familiar voice says, Kaidan Alenko striding into view. Celesta’s heart is in her throat, hammering in her ears. She remembers late night chats in the mess hall, fighting back to back. She remembers Ilos and the night before, when none of them could sleep and the whole crew had all gathered in the mess hall. She thinks she might be sick. A boy steps into view behind him, tall and broad-shouldered, relief melting onto his face when he sees Kaidan.

                “All the good people we lost, and you get left behind. Figures,” the mechanic snorts, crossing his arms over his chest.

                “Kaidan works his ass off for this colony. Show some fucking respect,” the boy says, stepping up. Kaidan glances over his shoulder at him, his whole face softening as he sees him.

                “Oh, screw this. I’m done with you Alliance types,” he says, stalking away. The boy steps up to stand behind Kaidan, hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Celesta’s eyes flick between the two of them. She wonders who he is, wonders who he is to Kaidan, but Kaidan reaches up to touch his hand before stepping towards her and gives her an answer.

                “I thought you were dead, Commander. We all did,” he says, voice measured and steady, hand reaching out towards her. She hesitates, then takes it, pulling him into a hug. He still smells the same as he did after Virmire, like gunmetal and sunshine and sweat. She feels tears welling up in her eyes, wonders how she’s made it this far without her best friend at her back.

                “It’s been too long, Kaidan. How have you been?” she asks, letting him go, a fond smile on her face even as she blinks back tears.

“That all you have to say? You show up after two years and act like nothing’s happened. I would have followed you anywhere, Commander! Thinking you were gone was like losing a limb! If it weren’t for Atlas, God knows what state I’d be in. Why didn’t you try to contact me? Why didn’t you try to let me know you were alive?” he says, voice raising, and he’s trembling, just a little. The boy- Atlas- steps forward again, reaching out, but he lets his hand fall back to his side and settles for moving closer.

“I wasn’t even awake, Kaidan! Cerberus spent the last two years putting me back together again! If what they say is true, I wasn’t anything but meat and tubes when they brought me in. I couldn’t contact anyone,” she says, bristling. She’s spent the last few months out of her mind, wondering about him, about everyone. She thinks that this is what she will hold against the Illusive Man, thinks that he can hold the blame for this and add it to his list of sins.

“You’re with Cerberus?” Kaidan asks, stepping back, face hardening. This time Atlas does put his hand on his shoulder, the two of them sharing a look, Kaidan leaning into his touch. There aren’t many doubts about what they are to each other left in her head, and she thinks that if this were any other time in any other situation, she’d congratulate her friend, tell him that she’s genuinely happy for him. But this isn’t any other time or any other situation, so she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin defiantly.

                “I’m not with anyone. I’m using Cerberus resources to fight the Collectors. I’m doing what I have to do,” she says, voice stiff, and there’s a rift growing between her and Alenko that she doesn’t know if she’ll ever be able to bridge, a hard look of anger settling over his face.

                “We’re just doing what we have to, too,” Atlas says, voice measured and steady, and for the first time Celesta notices how young he is. Or maybe she’s noticing how old she is.

                Kaidan turns away from her, and the boy follows him. Celesta boards the shuttle, throwing her helmet at the door as it shuts, and sits down on the bench, breath ragged. Garrus and Miranda watch, apprehensive, as she tries to breathe through the pain.

* * *

                There isn’t anything left for them on Horizon, so Atlas and and Kaidan are packing their things before the Alliance sends in new orders. Kaidan’s quiet, only shows him the order to report to the Citadel on the datapad before turning back to his suitcase. Over the past few months they’d built a life on the little colony, and Atlas’ hands shake as they pack it away.

                “It’s funny. Before she died, I would have followed her anywhere; jeopardized my career with the Alliance to do just that. What changed?” he asks, a little desperate, sitting on the edge of the bed with his helmet in his hands. He’d changed out of the armor when they’d got back, started packing it up, and he looks small and lost and scared. Atlas stops what he’s doing, drops the shirt he’d been folding, and reaches up to cup Kaidan’s cheek. He leans into the touch like he’s desperate for it.

                “It’s been two years, Kaidan. She was dead. You mourned her and you moved on and you learned to live your life again, and then she shows up working for a terrorist organization. There’s no shame in not joining her, not with this. Sometimes, you have to pick between the things you know and the things you don’t. It’s never a bad thing to stick to what you believe in,” he says, looking up at him, face soft and voice gentle. He wonders if Kaidan feels like he did when he had learned about his father’s research, but thinking about his father makes his heart constrict in his chest, so he files the thought away, focuses on the stubble rough against his palm.

                “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Kaidan breathes, and it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders as Atlas pulls him into a hug, arms wrapped tight around him like he can protect him from the way he feels. He knows it isn’t fixed, knows that Kaidan is going to have to work through the betrayal on his own, but he presses a kiss against the top of his head like it’ll help.

                “You’d have to pack all your stuff on your own,” he says, gently, faint smile on his face as he plucks the helmet out of his hands. Kaidan watches him with those warm brown eyes as Atlas picks up where he’d left off, doing what he can to ease the weight of the emotions he’s feeling.

* * *

                Anderson tells them they might be on the Citadel for awhile before Kaidan’s next assignment. Neither of them are surprised, the shoreleave stretching out in front of them. Atlas can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse. They stay a couple weeks there before they make their way to Earth. There, they wait, the days turning into weeks into months.

                Finally, Kaidan receives an encrypted message from Admiral Hackett, with orders to report to the London headquarters. He books a flight while Atlas packs their suitcases.


	2. was it everything you wanted to find?

                Celesta Shepard is brought back to Earth for trial. Atlas and Kaidan are sitting on the couch together, and it is only by chance that the television is turned to the news, only by chance they look up and notice her face. Her hair is white-blond, falling out of the regulation bun to frame her face. She’s wearing civilian clothes, not armor, but she looks every inch the Commander Shepard of legends. It is easy to picture her on Torfan, rifle hot in her hands, small frame encased in armor instead of cloth. She’s only on screen for a few seconds before she’s ushered inside, out of the view of the cameras, but in those few seconds she turns her head towards the cameras, eyes hard and cold, and the two of them can see the red gleam of cybernetics spider-webbing across her cheeks. It is more prominent than it had been on Horizon.

                “I feel like something bad is about to happen,” Kaidan says, voice quiet and hushed. He shares a look with Atlas, face apprehensive. He remembers the Reapers, remembers Ilos, remembers everything the Council has worked to hide. He finds, for the first time since Horizon, that he is afraid.

* * *

                Six months later, there’s an emergency transmission and the London HQ bursts into motion. Atlas sticks close to Kaidan, acts like he belongs, even if he doesn't. There’s an air of urgency, of controlled panic, and he isn't sure what's happening but he knows it's big and he knows he’s scared.

They pass Celesta in the hall, a wall of a man walking with her. She greets Kaidan like there was never any bad blood between them, like Horizon never happened, and then she’s on her way, following after Anderson. The man with her pauses, looks at Kaidan and Atlas.

“You knew the Commander?” he asks, almost incredulous, like he still can't believe the living legend had friends.

“I used to,” Kaidan answers, voice measured and even, like it always is when he’s upset. Atlas wraps his arm around his waist as the man shakes his head and jogs after them. There is only a second’s respite to be found in the hallway before they move along, hand in hand so they don't get separated.

* * *

The Normandy takes off from Earth and Atlas can finally breathe again. He’s wearing his father’s old hoodie, not armor, not like Kaidan. He knows he needs to get up, start moving, look for a set of armor that fits him because he won't survive Mars without it and can't stand the thought of staying behind. But for now he just breathes, heart still racing. There are dozens of things that Celesta and Kaidan both need to do before they get to Mars, so Atlas sits in the C.I.C, hands clenched into fists to keep them from shaking.

It’s a few minutes before Kaidan can slow down enough to notice him, but when he does he slides down the wall until he’s sitting next to him on the floor of the C.I.C., his helmet between his feet.

“You okay?” he asks, taking his hand in his, fingers linked together. It is this that keeps Atlas grounded, that brings him back to the here and now.

“Just thinking,” he answers, a weak half-smile on his face as he looks down at their joined hands.

“Oh? What about?” Kaidan asks, scooting closer. He knows they don't have much time, knows there’s still a half dozen things he needs to take care of while Atlas needs to find armor, but when he shifts to put his head on Kaidan’s shoulder he thinks that those things aren't so important after all.

“Maybe we should have gone to Andromeda after all,” he says, and Kaidan can’t help but laugh, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“What, and miss this?” he says, and Atlas looks a lot less scared when Kaidan drags them both to their feet, looks a little more like he can handle whatever the universe is about to throw at them.

* * *

Eva Core slams Kaidan against the wall of the shuttle, hand curled around his throat. Kaidan lets out a wheeze, arms flailing, feet kicking out. Across the roof, Atlas screams. It is a feral sound, torn from his throat, and heartbeats later the whole battlefield is bathed in the blue glow of his biotics. He throws everything he has at her, yanking her away, lips curled up in a snarl. Celesta finishes it off, empties her clip into the thing’s chest, face hard and angry. The two of them reach Kaidan simultaneously, each of them wrapping their arms around him, carrying him to the landing zone. His head lolls back, a groan escaping his lips. Atlas begs him to stay with them, pleads for him to hang on until they get to the Citadel.

Liara does what she can to keep him stable, but there is only so much she can do when she has no medical training, and Atlas is left alone in the empty med-bay, the silence filled with the soft beeping of machines. He pulls a chair to the bedside, sits his borrowed helmet on the floor at his feet, and takes Kaidan’s hand in his. They’ll be at the Citadel soon, he knows, but for now he will keep a silent vigil at Kaidan’s bedside, head bowed and shoulders stooped.

Atlas has never been the praying type, but he finds himself closing his eyes anyway, breathing a prayer to a God he’s never believed in.

* * *

Atlas has almost drifted off to sleep in the silence when the doors to the med-bay slide open. Celesta steps inside almost hesitantly, silently drifting to the monitors. Kaidan’s vital signs are still stable, and she lets out a breath of relief, her white-knuckled grip on the edge of the desk relaxing. Atlas.watches her from his place by the bed, notices distractedly how the med-bay lights shine on her hair. It’s purple now, darker than it had been years ago when they had stood together in his father’s kitchen.

“Huerta Memorial is expecting us. Said they’d be waiting at the docks with a team of paramedics,” she says, voice breaking the stillness of the silence.

Atlas hums in response, Kaidan’s hand still clutched in his.  

“Plan on staying with him in the hospital?” she asks, walking around to sit in a chair on the other side of the bed. She looks exhausted, face pale and gaunt with dark circles beneath her eyes.

“Not sure. Probably, though. Don't like the thought of him there alone,” Atlas answers, voice rough. He feels as tired as she looks, thinks to himself that he can see the appeal of a six hundred year nap right about now.

“Well, there’s a place on my ship for you, if you want it. I understand if you want to stay with him, but if you're like me and can't stand the waiting, you're welcome aboard. You did good on Mars. Could use someone like you,” she says, tapping the heel of her boot against the floor.

“I’ll think about it,” he says, voice even, but part of him already knows he’d hate to leave Kaidan alone more than he’d hate the waiting. She sits there for a few more minutes, staring down at Kaidan’s prone form, and the way Atlas has his hand clasped between both of his. She leaves as quietly as she had come, and Atlas is alone again.

* * *

The paramedics wheel Kaidan away to the hospital, talking to each other rapid-fire. Liara and James disappear, vanishing into the crowds on the.Citadel, and for once Atlas finds that the station feels completely foreign to him. He’d spent part of his childhood on the station, remembers which shops on the Presidium that his mother liked to frequent, remembers his father taking him to a gun shop on the Wards when he was twelve, remembers coming out about being trans and later about being gay in a sushi place on the Silversun Strip, remembers his father finding one of the only ice cream shops on the station after his first shot of testosterone. But now he feels like a stranger, like he doesn't belong, like it isn't the same place.

His feet lead him to Huerta. He checks in with a woman behind the desk, tells her who he’s there for and takes a seat in the corner. He notices a drell standing by the window, arms folded behind his back. The wristband on his arm marks him as a patient, but the long black coat he wears keeps him from looking like one. Atlas’ attention is drawn away when the receptionist- a different one than he’d talked to before, he’s been waiting so long- calls his name. She gives him a room number, directions, and a kind smile. The doctors tell him that it might be hours before Kaidan wakes up, tells him he’s welcome to stay anyway. He takes a seat and resumes his vigil.

He is hovering in the space between awake and asleep when the door open. He recognizes Celesta by the way she walks, steps heavy and sure.

“I came to see him,” she says, voice wavering, body turning towards the door like she’s ready to go.

“I’ll give you some privacy. Need to stretch my legs anyway,” he says, brushing past her. He buys a coffee from the machine in the waiting room, downs it in three gulps even though it burns the whole way down. He’s leaning up against the wall in the empty hallway when Celesta finally steps back out of the room.

“Decided what you're gonna do?” she asks, voice quiet, like she couldn’t be loud even if she tried.

“Yeah. I’m gonna stay, at least for a while. Don't want him waking up alone,” he says, picking at the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I figured as much. Just wanted to let you know that my offer stands from here on out. You decide you want to get the hell out of this place later, you just let me know,” she says. She leaves before he can answer her. 

* * *

Kaidan sleeps for the next two days. Occasionally, a doctor or a nurse will come in and check on him, changing his IVs and anything else he might need. The nurses are nice, asking about Atlas too. His favorite is a blonde man that works nights, who offered to stay with Kaidan through his lunch break so Atlas could eat real food instead of junk from the vending machines.

It’s the middle of the night cycle when Kaidan wakes up. Atlas is sitting in his chair, hand laying next to Kaidan’s on the bed, legs stretched out, his hoodie thrown haphazardly over his chest in a poor imitation of a blanket. He feels Kaidan shift next to him and jerks awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

“How long have I been out?” Kaidan asks, every word an effort, mouth dry, a foul taste in his mouth. He wants water, wants to go back to sleep, wants to pull Atlas into this shitty bed with him.

“Almost three days,” Atlas answers, standing up and fumbling for a bottle of water. Kaidan drinks like he’s dying of thirst, one hand clutching Atlas’ wrist as he supports him.

“What happened?” he asks, breathless, when he finally finishes drinking.

“You got pretty messed up on Mars. We brought you to the Citadel immediately. You're in Huerta Memorial. Shepard headed back out, got an assignment from the Council,” he tells him, sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulls the blanket up a little higher, runs his hand through Kaidan’s hair, gives him a look of such fond adoration that it almost hurts to look at. 

Kaidan hums in response, fighting a losing battle with his eyelids as he starts to drift towards sleep again. Atlas smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead.

“Get some sleep,” he tells him, pushing his hair back. Kaidan is asleep seconds later, a faint smile on his face. Atlas kisses him again before stepping out in the hallway, drifting towards the nurse’s station to let them know Kaidan had woken up, brief as it was.

* * *

After he wakes up, Kaidan steadily improves. Four days after waking up, he’s awake most of the time, and starting to go a little stir crazy. Atlas is patient, doing what he can to alleviate it, and one day he slips out of the room while the blonde nurse is there checking Kaidan over, and when he comes back it is with a bottle of whiskey cradled in his hands. Kaidan’s face lights up, and the blonde nurse promises to keep their secret with a twinkle in his eye. Later, he brings books, too, and flowers, and a balloon. Kaidan treasures every addition, and sometimes, when he brings out the puppy eyes, Atlas will sit and read to him, voice steady and warm. They talk, too, Atlas trying to fill the void the silence leaves, tries to keep Kaidan from being so bored and so frustrated.

Later, they start physical therapy. Kaidan is always impatient to start and exhausted when he returns. They get a message from Celesta, something in between formal and familiar, and she tells them that she will be on the Citadel again soon. That night, Atlas will tell Kaidan they need to talk, and Kaidan will make himself sit up to ward off the drowsiness he’s starting to feel.

“Celesta made me an offer. She wants me on the Normandy,” Atlas says, fingers linked with Kaidan’s, side by side on the small hospital bed. Kaidan squeezes ever so gently, a faint smile on his face.

“Not that I won’t hate to see you go, but you should take it. You could do a lot more there with her than here with me, and both of us shouldn’t be cooped up in a hospital room. Besides, Udina made me an offer himself. Wants to make me a Spectre,” he says, shifting so he can lean his head on Atlas’ shoulder. Atlas lets his head rest against Kaidan’s, a moment’s peace before the rest of the galaxy can take it away.

“You should do it. I mean, obviously it’s your choice, but the second human Spectre? That’s one hell of an achievement. Besides, you’d look great in the uniform,” he says, grinning. Kaidan laughs, warm and low, and Atlas thinks about how much he’s going to miss it.

“I’ll think about it. Won’t commit until I’m better, though. Keep Udina on his toes,” he says, and Atlas laughs, looking down at their linked fingers. He wonders what his father would think, if he could see him now, if he could see the whole situation. His father had always loved adventure, and this was sure to be one hell of one, but he also remembers the way his father had spent weeks trying to boost his shields, telling him that if he couldn’t keep him out of action then he’d keep him as safe as he could. He wonders, idly, what it would have been like if he’d had a normal life. If he hadn’t signed up with the Alliance, if he’d gone to some fancy school, maybe studied law on Thessia, if his father hadn’t helped found the Andromeda Initiative. He wonders where they’d be now. Would they have been on Earth, dead in the initial attack? Would his father have joined Shepard?

It is this he is thinking about, even as he tucks Kaidan into bed, even as he boots up his omni-tool and tells Celesta he’ll take her up on that offer. His father hangs around him like an old ghost, and Atlas pulls his father’s dog tags out of his pocket and curls his fist around them. He sits in the dark hospital room, the silence broken only by the soft beeping of machines, and wonders what Andromeda might have been like.

* * *

Their goodbye is a quiet one. Atlas feels like he might cry, but he doesn’t. Celesta is in the waiting room. She’d messaged Atlas when she’d arrived, said she’d give them their privacy and come see Kaidan later on her own. As much as he wanted the two of them to reconcile, Atlas was grateful for the privacy, doesn’t know how he’d manage to say goodbye at all with Shepard looking over his shoulder. Kaidan, for the most part, lets Atlas hold him, his fingers curled in the soft, worn fabric of the hoodie he’s wearing. “Be safe,” he tells him, for the dozenth time, and pulls him down to press soft kisses against his skin.

He can’t stay forever, though, so even though it’s the second hardest thing he’s ever done, he pulls himself away from Kaidan and wanders down the hallway. He doesn’t have anything to take with him, leaves all the books and the flowers and the balloons for Kaidan. He’s been using a hospital toothbrush for the last few days, let his hair stay untamed, stole deodorant and shampoo from Kaidan.

When he steps into the waiting room he sees Celesta with the drell he had noticed before. Her hands are in his, their foreheads pressed together, and he would swear that there were tears on her face. She’s wearing a dress, too, and heels, and if it weren’t for the purple hair and the voice, he wouldn’t have recognized her. She’s so impossibly soft in that moment, her attention solely on the drell in front of her, and Atlas can recognize a goodbye when he sees one. Instead, he catches sight of the blonde nurse nearby, makes a beeline for him, calling out a greeting. The man is happy to see him, or he’s good at pretending if he isn’t. He promises Atlas that he’ll take good care of Kaidan, promises that he’s in good hands. When the conversation ends, the nurse is called away to help with another crisis, and Celesta is standing behind him, her face dry, arms crossed loosely in front of her chest.

They fall into step together, both of them silent, both of them still wrapped up in their own goodbye. Atlas follows Celesta without question, half a step behind her, eyes on their feet. He hadn’t ever expected her to look so delicate, so human, always expected her to be the legend she’d made herself into. He’d expected the same of his father, too, until he’d seen him cry the last time they’d spoken (it had shaken him, too, hadn’t even see his father cry when his mother had died, but he’d cried over leaving him behind).

She leads him to the markets on the Presidium. She helps him buy his armor, offers suggestions on what might work best with what she knew of his fighting style. Helps him buy his guns, too, tells him how she fights with her own biotics and lets him make his choice from there. She leaves him after that, tells him which docking bay to find the ship in and goes off to take care of her own business. He lingers in the market, buying changes of clothes and hygiene products. He isn’t sure what to do about his testosterone, isn’t sure if he’ll be able to keep up with his prescription, but he’s been on it so long he supposes a couple of missed doses won’t matter and makes for the ship.

* * *

He finds the Normandy easily enough. There’s a crowd of journalists hanging around, hoping for an interview with the Commander, but they let him slip on board without any hassle. It feels more like a home, this time around, with more crew picked up from the Citadel to man the ship. The asari- Liara- is there to greet him, a warm smile on her face, and she leads him to the Crew Quarters. She tells him he’s welcome to spend his time wherever he likes, tells him that Celesta will stop by later for a briefing, tells him to feel free to introduce himself to the others whenever he likes. There’s a turian on board, the one from Horizon, and Atlas learns he was one of Celesta’s original crew from the first Normandy. He’d met James before, briefly, but he was friendly and open in a way that put him at ease, and Cortez is friendly, too, more quiet but just as welcoming. The Comms Specialist is too busy for a proper introduction, gives him an apologetic smile and swears to make it up to him later. The pilot doesn’t seem like the conversational sort, and the AI sitting in the cockpit makes him think of his father, so Atlas finds that he is out of things to do for the time being.

He finds himself in the Starboard Observation Lounge. He settles onto the couch, knees drawn up to his chest, chin resting on top of them, and stares out at the view. He can’t help but feel a little lost, even though the decision was his. His misses his father, misses his sister, misses Kaidan. He stays there for a of couple hours, until Celesta comes on board, the AI on the ship announcing her presence. Minutes tick by and Celesta finds him, and takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch. She tells him his responsibilities will be minimal, tells him he’s welcome to mingle with the crew whenever he likes, tells him that if he feels better in the Lounge he’s more than welcome to steal the blankets off his assigned bunk and sleep there. She reminds him to check in with the ship’s doctor, tells him Chakwas has been there since the beginning and that she’ll take care of anything he needs.

When she leaves, Atlas feels like maybe he’ll belong on the Normandy after all.

* * *

They leave a couple of scant hours later, so Shepard can mediate some meeting between krogan and salarian. He stays out of the way, tucked into the Observation Lounge. He’s never been one for formal meetings, especially when the fate of the galaxy is hanging in the balance.

* * *

                He stops by the med-bay first. He’s in his armor, has his helmet in his hands.

                “Most people don’t need me until after the mission,” the doctor says, and Atlas grins.

                “Just wanted to check in. Shepard said I should, but I’ve got some medical concerns that should be taken into consideration,” he says. She motions him inside, towards one of the empty beds. He takes a seat, legs dangling down.

                “What might these medical concerns be, young man?” she asks, clipboard in hand, one leg crossed over the other.

                “I take testosterone, get an injection every two weeks. There was an implant they offered, but it cost more than I was willing to pay,” he says, fingers drumming on his thigh. He’s not really worried, the woman sitting in front of him is a doctor, and there are only a handful left that don’t at least try to be respectful.

                “I have a small supply, here, but I’ll need to pick more up the next time we’re on the Citadel. Do you mind disclosing why?” she asks, making a note somewhere on the clipboard.

                “I’m transgender,” he says, and she makes another note.

                “Very well. Is there anything else you need? I imagine it won’t be a concern for awhile, but I can pull some strings and obtain some contraceptives for you, in whichever form you’d prefer,” she says, shifting in her seat.

                “I’ll...look into it,” he says, after a few seconds passed. Hadn’t realized he’d need it, if he were honest with himself, thought the testosterone would keep him from conceiving. Chakwas just gives him a knowing grin, telling him to come back if he ever needs anything else. He leaves slightly perplexed, but the good doctor was considerate, and he thinks he might like her more than anyone else on the ship.

* * *

Afterwards, they make for Sur’Kesh. Celesta stops by to tell him to suit up. She claims she wants to see him in action, get a feel for how he’ll fit onto the team, but he knows she wants to make him feel welcome, too.

Sur’Kesh is beautiful, though, with more greenery than he’d ever seen before, and every view he can lay his eyes on is breathtaking. Eve is breathtaking, too, in her ferocity, in her determination, in the way she doesn’t give a single shit about what any of them thinks.

* * *

                Eve and Mordin move into the med-bay. Atlas goes to visit them once, just to see them. Mordin barely notices him, bent over his research, humming a tune to himself. Eve is friendly, and asks about the differences between human men and krogan men. Somehow he ends up telling her that he’s trans, too, finds himself explaining what that means.

                “On Tuchunka,” she tells him, eyes crinkled in a smile, “you’d be celebrated for making yourself who you want to be, despite the obstacles in your path.”

                He leaves, tucking the praise close to his heart and holding it there. His father had said something similar, and every day he finds the loss is a little easier to swallow.

* * *

                Their next mission takes them to the Attican Traverse, on a little planet made of rock. Celesta’s face lights up like a beacon when she sees the krogan commander, and for once she isn't Shepard but instead the woman behind the name.

The caves are dark and dank and he hates the Rachni, especially the little ones that burst of the eggs, but they make it through it all right. He’s on edge, lit up blue the whole time, and Vega makes a joke about not even needing their flashlights.

The Rachni Queen is stunning and magnificent, and Celesta fights tooth and nail to free her from Reaper control. When the krogan stay behind, Atlas can see the weight of her decision settle onto her soldiers, more blood on her hands as they die to cover their retreat.

He sees some of that weight life, too, when Grunt staggers towards them, bloody and battered but wonderfully alive. After Celesta hefts him up, half dragging him towards the shuttle, Atlas thinks he might have underestimated the woman’s strength.

* * *

In the space between missions, Atlas spends time with the Normandy crew. He sits with Garrus in the main battery, legs dangling from a stool as he watches him work. It reminds him of time he spent with his father as a child, six years old and fascinated at everything his father did, while Sierra trailed after their mother.

He plays chess with Traynor when she has the time to spare. He isn't as good at it as his sister, and he thinks the specialist lets him win whenever he does, but she talks the whole time, mouth moving as quickly as her mind, and she’s easy company.

He eats with Cortez, twice a day. Lunch and dinner, and the two of them talk, taking their time. Atlas finds that he has more in common with Cortez than he expected, an easy camaraderie forming between the two of them.

He spars with James, both of them losing themselves entirely in the rhythm of fists against skin, feet skidding on the floor. James is bigger but Atlas is faster, and they're more evenly matched than either of them had expected. Sometimes, Celesta will watch these matches, a bemused look on her face. Once, he spars with her. They use their biotics as much as they use their fists, the cargo bay bathed in blue light as they come together, teeth bared and fists raised. In the end they are locked in a stalemate, biotic energy clashing, chests heaving as they pant for breath. Atlas doesn't think he’s had so much fun in years.

* * *

He spends the least time with Liara, who seems to always be sequestered away in her cabin, head bent over a datapad. He visits her a handful of times. Once, he walks in on her as she is sending a message. It is only when she says that they _have teamed up with your son, Atlas_ that he realizes it is to his father. He stands in the doorway until she has ended the recording, head bowed, shoulders sagging with exhaustion.

“You knew my dad?” he asks, voice quiet, like being loud would ruin whatever is building between them.

“He was an acquaintance. I sent him much of my research to help with the Andromeda Initiative. I thought someone should know what is happening here, when there’s a chance we won't make it out of this war alive. I thought he might like knowing you're helping us save the galaxy,” she says, eyes shining like she might cry. Something wells up within, grief and love and loneliness all mixed into one.

“Thank you,” he says, and they stand in silence, the monitors humming on the wall. He doesn't know if the arks are still close enough for the message to go through, but he imagines his father six hundred years in the future, among stars that haven't been named, and smiling when he hears.

* * *

They go to Tuchunka next. It is a wasteland, wild and untamed just like the krogan people. Atlas comes for the first mission, thinks Celesta looks at home in the rubble. He stays behind for the next, sees the haunted look in her eye when she tells the Primark his son is dead.

* * *

                Celesta takes them to Eden Prime. They find a Prothean, wearing ghosts like he wears his armor. He has the same look in his eyes that Celesta does, and Atlas tries not to think about where the two of them might end up.

* * *

The next mission on Tuchunka is to be their last. Celesta takes Atlas and Javik, telling the Prothean to cover them while they take the brunt of the battle with their biotics. He’s nervous but proud that she’s putting that much faith in him.

It is the first time he has ever seen a Reaper. It is impossibly big, impossibly frightening, and he cheers when the thresher maw drags it into the Earth. The salarian never comes back, even when Celesta does, and the explosion that follows rains ash over the planet even as it circulates in the air.

Celesta reaches out, catches ash like snowflakes in the palm of her hand, and Atlas wonders what she’s lost to get this far.

* * *

                The emergency message from the Citadel puts Atlas’ heart in his throat. Celesta is moving before it’s over, pulling armor out of her locker and snapping it into place methodically and mechanically. She turns to look around at her crew, signals Atlas and Liara to suit up, and then she’s marching back to the cockpit and back to Joker.

He has never seen the Citadel in such a mess before. Shattered glass crunches under his boots as he steps foot in the middle of a war zone, gun hot in his hands as he fires at the Cerberus operatives. The fight is over sooner than he’d expected, Celesta rushing towards Bailey where he sits next to the elevator. The seconds tick by agonizingly, every heartbeat a reminder that they should moving, and then finally, blessedly, they are moving again. They carve a bloody swath to the dalatrass, and then the assassin drops from the floor. Atlas has taken a fighting stance when the drell from before joins the scene, stepping between them. A muffled sound comes from Celesta, her hands clenched into fists, her face pale. The assassin’s blade slips through the drell’s chest, Atlas letting out a breath he hadn't been holding. Celesta screams, then, finally forcing her legs to move.

She chases the Cerberus assassin, body glowing blue, face twisted in rage. She skids to a stop next to the drell, presses her hand against the bloody hole in his chest, a sob tearing its way out of her. Atlas turns his head, gives them what privacy he can. She takes a moment to press a kiss against the drell’s cheek, and then she takes off again, Atlas and Liara stumbling behind her. She mutters a prayer as she jumps inside the sky car, abandons the wheel to Atlas as soon as they’re in the air, leans out with her gun in her hand and a hard look in her eyes that makes him see her as the Butcher she has tried so hard not to be.

The next few minutes blur together in a rush of combat and bullets, chasing after the assassin. Celesta’s rage is focused, keeps her going, but Atlas and Liara can barely keep up until they're standing in front of the remaining Councillors. Kaidan stands with them, faint bruises still on his face. Liara keeps her gun pointed at them, but Atlas’ hand falls to his side. A half second passes, feels like an eternity dragging by, and then Kaidan lowers his gun, too.

“Spectre or not, I’m not shooting him,” he says, over his shoulder, voice breaking as he turns to look at Atlas again. Celesta tells them Udina is a traitor, voice hard and cold as she delivers the news, rifle lowered but still warm in her hands. Kaidan turns back around, orders Udina away from the console. The politician raises his hands, starts to argue, but Atlas puts a bullet in his chest before he can (he feels like his father’s son, in that moment, someone who shoots firsts and deals with the consequences, and he wonders if Alec would have been proud). He sags like a puppet whose strings have been cut, and Kaidan’s arms are wrapping around him, their pistols clattering to the ground, a choked sound escaping him.

Celesta turns to the door, gun raised, bloodied teeth bared in a snarl, but it’s only Bailey who walks in, Bailey who’s here to clean up the mess Cerberus has made, Bailey who looks down at Udina’s body with a sigh and a soft shake of his head.

Celesta runs to Huerta, towards the drell, the mask she wears to keep her emotions at bay cracking as grief and anxiety shine through. Kaidan waits in the docking bay, Atlas by his side. Atlas is draped over him in a way that’s almost inappropriate, but isn’t quite there yet. Kaidan just smiles, and holds him as close as he can with their armor in the way.

* * *

It is hours before Celesta makes her way back to the Normandy. Her eyes are red like she’s been crying, but she holds her head high. She almost doesn’t see either of them, but Kaidan clears his throat and she stops, head swiveling around, body tense. She relaxes when she sees the two of them, a wry grin on her face when she sees the way Atlas is clinging.

“Anything you need, Alenko?” she asks, his name familiar in her mouth. Kaidan smiles, glances down at Atlas.

“I’m ready to work for you again, ma’am, if you’ll have me,” he says, and it’s like a weight has rolled off his shoulders.

“I should have you know, I’m going with him, whatever you decide,” Atlas murmurs. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed him until he had him back.

“Kaidan, you’ve got one place in the galaxy where you belong right now, and that’s on my ship. I’ve wanted you back on my crew since I woke up with Cerberus,” she says, her face softening. Kaidan’s grin is brilliant as he reaches out, shakes her hand.

“It’ll be interesting to see how this Normandy is different from the old one,” he says, a tinge of nostalgia in his voice.

“Well, there’s better beds, for one, even though your boyfriend is sleeping on a couch in the observation lounge,” she says, amusement in her voice. Kaidan raises an eyebrow, looks down at Atlas.           

“You’re sleeping on a couch?” he asks, like he can’t quite believe what he’s heard.

“I like to fall asleep looking at the stars,” Atlas answers, defensive, but he doesn’t move his head from Kaidan’s shoulder. Celesta laughs, and starts to walk past them.

“We take off in three hours. Take the time for yourselves,” she says, and then she’s gone, disappearing through the airlock.

* * *

                Celesta doesn’t sleep much, after that. Sometimes Atlas can’t either, when looking at the stars out the window reminds him too much of the opportunity he lost, and he’ll find her in the mess hall, cup of steaming tea in front of her, datapad in hand. He’s worried about her, just like the rest of the crew is.

He stops by Liara’s cabin one morning, catches her while she’s working. She’s sitting in front of her desk, but her bed isn’t empty, a lump under the covers. He sees purple hair fanning across the pillow, a faint smile creeps onto his face. Atlas and Liara share a look, both of them inclining their heads in silent greetings, and Atlas backs out the room, the door closing silently behind him.

* * *

                Atlas stays up late to shower. The water is always lukewarm, never hot, but he gets used to it. Sometimes, Kaidan will join him. There’s always teasing laughs and knowing smiles whenever the two step out of the showers together. Atlas wrinkles his nose in response, but Kaidan gives whoever it is a wink and a grin, telling Atlas he likes to keep them guessing.

* * *

                Tali joins the team. She’s fun to talk to, and lets Atlas hover over her shoulder and watch her work, answering any questions before he can ask them, like she’s excited to have someone to share her work with. Most of it’s too technical for Atlas to really understand, but he’s interested anyway, likes watching the results and the way she lights up when she figures something out.

Kaidan finds the poker table in the other observation lounge, and sets up a game one night between him and Tali and James and Garrus. Atlas never learned how to play, but he makes himself at home in Kaidan’s lap, joins in on the jokes. He listens to their stories with wide-eyed interest, never sure when to call bullshit, and even tells him a few of his own _my father caught me skinny dipping on Earth when I was seventeen, I pushed my sister into the lake on the Presidium when we were six and swore she fell and Dad believed me, once Dad got drunk at a concert and spent the whole night dancing with mom to shitty pop music even though neither of them knew how to dance and I still have the video_. There are other stories he could tell them, about his father, about his sister, but he keeps these close to his heart for himself.

* * *

Kaidan has trouble sleeping. They all are, Atlas thinks, but Kaidan’s headaches get worse and there’s a handful of missions he has to skip because the pain is making him sick. They keep the lights turned off in the observation lounge, sometimes keep the shutters closed so it’s pitch-black, trying to get the pain to ease off. Atlas gets more headaches, too, down after most missions because his amp gets too hot and his head can’t take it. He’s glad that he’s not alone when he gets them, that he can curl up in a nest of blankets with Kaidan when he has them, can stay there in the dark quiet until it goes away.

Celesta takes them out less and less, telling them that as much as she values having them by her side on the field that she values their comfort more. Sometimes, they can only give her tired smiles, eyes still crinkled in pain, but other times they protest. She looks bad, too, with the circles under her eyes getting darker and her cybernetics getting more pronounced, but she waves off their concern and focuses on the crew.

* * *

There is less time between missions as the war goes on. They steal whatever moments they can. Kaidan calls them sanity checks, his hand in Atlas’, a soft smile on his face. Atlas doesn’t call them anything, but he treasures each moment they can find, even the ones where they’re lying side by side in the dark. The thing about finding love in an active warzone, when you live in the heart of the storm, is that it might be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. This is something both of them know, something both of them never mention, something that makes the two of them treasure what they do have.

* * *

Atlas starts seeing the woman behind the title the longer he stays on the ship. She isn’t Commander Shepard, isn’t the Butcher of Torfan, isn’t the Savior of the Citadel. She’s Celesta, a woman, who has known enough grief to fill a dozen lifetimes.

* * *

              They don’t stop until they have a lead on the Illusive Man’s location. Celesta tells them they’ve earned one last shore leave before they make the final push. She tells them her home is their home, tells them to stop by whenever, and Atlas finds himself on the Silversun Strip. It hasn’t changed since he was a kid, the same arcade games up and running (Sierra still holds the high score in Shattered Eezo. Atlas takes a picture, sends it to her even though he knows she probably won’t get it.)

* * *

                Celesta calls them to her apartment, disgruntled and angry, still wet from her fall through the fish tank. Atlas finds it difficult to keep the grin off his face when she tells them.

                “You think something’s funny, Ryder?” she asks him, but there’s a gleam in her eyes that tells him she’s not angry.

                “No, ma’am, nothing funny here,” he says, and she rolls her eyes at him.

                “Then you get to be my date when we infiltrate the casino. Hope you’ve got a suit,” she says, a wicked grin on her face as Atlas splutters in shock.

* * *

                Celesta wears a different dress to the party. This one is long and red, shows off most of her back and a lot of her front, too. The two of them make a pretty picture walking into the casino, and Atlas is sure Kaidan got at least half a dozen pictures on his omni-tool before they managed to leave the apartment.

                He follows Celesta as she charms the others at the party. She looks like she was born for a crowd like this, all smiles and laughter, glittering in the casino lights. It’s fun until she uses him to distract the guards, having him pour every bit of charm he has into keeping them from noticing her.

                He flirts, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t expect it to work, expects the guard to try to shoo him off, expects to have to pretend like he’s drunk. He doesn’t expect it when the guard winks back at him, and tells him to wait twenty minutes until his shift is over and then maybe they can meet in the bathroom. He flees after Celesta before the guard can follow through with it, red faced as she laughs. She stops laughing when they find Elijah Khan dead in his office.

* * *

                The lead takes them to the Citadel Archives. Atlas and Kaidan stick with Celesta, everybody else splitting up. It’s more like a party than a fight when they find Cerberus operatives crawling all over the place, with back and forth banter. Atlas falls into the pattern gleefully, Kaidan shaking his head fondly at him.

* * *

                Shepard faces Shepard, and Atlas finds it hard not to laugh, at least until the clone starts talking about the cult of Shepard, a gleam in her eyes as she turns to him.

                “Like you, Atlas. Trying so hard to fill Daddy’s boots that you have to follow her like a puppy,” she says, lips twisted in a sneer, and the mention of his father sending a bolt of anger through him.

“And you're just a pale imitation of the real thing,” he snarks back. Celesta sighs behind him and takes a shot at the glass model of the Citadel hanging above them. They roll into cover in the ensuing chaos.

* * *

A fight through the Archives follows, ending when Atlas and Kaidan are sealed away with Celesta in one of the vaults lining the wall. Atlas sighs, settling down on the floor, back against the wall. Celesta is still talking about how she talks, her rambling filling the dark silence. Kaidan is the only one worried. Loudly, he starts speculating about the air left in the Vault until Celesta gives him a withering glare and an exasperated sigh, calling Glyph to get them out.

* * *

The clone’s plan comes to an end when she lets go of the cargo bay ramp, falling so far they can't see her hit the ground. Celesta stands at the edge for a moment, in between Atlas and Kaidan, chest heaving, before she turns back to them, a grin on her face as she proclaims that they’d done it.

* * *

                She decides they have earned a party, and she spends a full day setting up, her son helping her, and then it's time and everyone files into the apartment. She keeps it energetic, keeps the liquor flowing and the music playing, making rounds to visit everyone. Atlas is tipsy before he knows it, eyeing Jack where she dances on the table.

“Bet you couldn't do better,” she taunts, and he takes it as a challenge, climbing up next to her. He finds that he _is_ good at it, sending Kaidan a wink before he really gets into it. Miranda, laughing, whistles at him, and he winks at her, too.

Later, he watches Kaidan and James and Jacob do push ups on the balcony. Kaidan swears he can win, Kasumi insists they should take off their shirts, and Atlas is too busy appreciating the view to chime in.

Much later, the party will wind down, and everyone will scatter throughout the apartment. Atlas will pull Kaidan into an empty bedroom, both of them drunk and laughing and in love as they fall into bed. They’ll wake up together, too, tangled together, and take in the clothes scattered across the room, lying where they fell. They’ll spend minutes staring into each other’s face, still drowsy, pressing soft kisses to lips and foreheads and cheeks. Eventually, they’ll join the others in the rest of the apartment. James will feed them eggs he made from his grandmother’s recipe.

* * *

Afterwards, they stand on the docks together, fingers twined together. Everyone else has already boarded (Shepard’s son, too, when she swore she had a bad feeling about leaving him behind) leaving the two of them alone in the silence.

“It’s been one hell of a ride, huh?” Kaidan says, pulling Atlas against his side. If anyone had told him a year and a half ago that he would meet a boy in a bar and fall in love, he might have laughed. Now, the boy from the bar rests his head on his shoulder.

“The best,” Atlas answers, and he leans up to press a kiss against his cheek.

* * *

                Celesta leaves them behind for the final push. She takes Liara and Javik, tells the Prothean that he’ll have his revenge at last. She calls the Normandy back in the middle of the fight, pushes them aboard and tells them to look after her son. She makes the final sprint alone, her gun hot in her hands, her hair falling from the regulation bun.

They find themselves changed, crash landed on an unknown planet in an unknown system. They won't find out what happened until later, when Hackett tells them that she managed the impossible one last time. He tells them the Reapers are rebuilding the relays, tells them a shuttle is on its way full of parts to get them into space.

Grief is the same in this strange new world. The line between organic and synthetic has been blurred, but if the quarians can work with the geth the rest of the galaxy can work with this. Rebuilding is slow, but it happens, and everyone left alive knows what that means. 

* * *

                The funeral they hold for Celesta is a pitiful one, compared to her first one, but it’s beautiful in a way the other one wasn’t. There’s a small gathering of her closest friends, huddled around an altar with pictures, and nothing more. The speeches are heartfelt, broken off occasionally as the speakers work to control their tears. There are no reporters, no cameras. It is only raw, unfettered emotion, grief and love and victory mingling in the air.

                A handful of months later, there will be stories circulating through the galaxy about The Shepard. They will tell how beautiful she was, how brave, how she gave her life for the galaxy, how she blurred the line between organics and synthetics, and how it is thanks to her that the galaxy’s former enemies are rebuilding the worlds they had destroyed.

                In the centuries that follow, people will forget pieces of The Shepard’s story. They will forget the friends who followed her, the boy she raised, the man who saved her so she could save the world. They will forget the specifics, forget how Torfan had been a stain on her name for so long it became a part of her. The people will forget, and the stories will get it wrong. But in the months and years that follow the Reaper War, the Normandy crew will remember the truth. They’ll carry it with them for the rest of their lives, short or long as they may be.

* * *

                Later, Atlas and Kaidan will wake up together, the pale light of dawn filtering through the blinds. It will be a morning full of sleepy kisses, murmurs of forever against scarred skin. It will be noon before they get out of bed. Atlas will lean against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand. Kaidan will sit at the table, a datapad in front of him, but his eyes will be trained on the boy across from him. They will spend their day talking about their forever and where they want to spend it.

                In the end, they will decide to go back to Earth. Atlas will make a joke about a house with a white picket fence, a dog and two kids, and Kaidan will wrap his arms around him and tell him that it sounds perfect.

* * *

                Years later, they are sitting on the couch. They still have forever stretching out in front of them, even if it’s getting a little shorter every day. Kaidan works as a part time security guard in an office (sometimes, the women will look at him, whispering to themselves, and occasionally one of them will work up the courage to ask him if they’ve met before. They never believe him when he tells them he’s famous) and Atlas has hopped from job to job over the past few years.

                “I’m telling you, it’s my last name. They’re still holding Dad’s research against me,” he says, gesturing wildly with his fork.

                “Well, if it bothers you that much, you can have mine,” Kaidan answers, smiling. Atlas opens his mouth to stay something, then narrows his eyes.

                “Did you just propose to me?” he demands, hand stilling.

                “I think I did,” he answers, and Atlas sets aside his plate and pulls Kaidan into a kiss. Later, they’ll throw themselves into wedding planning. The old crew will get together one last time, and afterwards there will be dozens of news stories.

As for Atlas and Kaidan, the two of them will fade into obscurity, living out the forever they’d fought for.

**Author's Note:**

> So let me start off by saying that the artist, [jeannedarcprice](https://jeannedarcprice.tumblr.com/), was amazing to work with! She was kind enough to beta the fic for me as well, so any mistakes still in the fic are probably a stylistic choice that I left in. Also, I apologize for any issues re: spacing/indention, archiveofourown doesn't play well with copying and pasting from Word. This fic was a beast to write, but it was definitely a labor of love. There may be a loose sequel/continuation of this fic looking at the other Ryder twin, but for now I'm calling it quits. Thanks to the artist for being so awesome to work with, and thanks to you for reading the fic! If you liked it, feel free to leave a comment- I'll do my best to respond, and if I don't, I still appreciate it.  
> Finally, here's a link to the artist's masterpost, where you can also view the art: https://jeannedarcprice.tumblr.com/post/175230666406/mebb-2018-please-read-six-feet-under-the-stars-by


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